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Sunday, April 25, 2010

It has been a hard week for our Bear of the Week, oops, our Pup of the Week, the great, strong, indomitable Baron (aka) Bear. He has something called arthritis. I don't know much about this but I know it hurts Mommy a lot. Somedays, when she is in terrible pain, I just sit in her lap and lick and that makes her feel better. (I wish I could sit with Baron all day and lick. I hope it helps him as much as Mom.)

But get this: From his pain and suffering Bear has brought us a new means of transportation. He has grown wheels! I am nine years old now, and while I love to romp around the house with Pocket, there are times I'm in too much darn pain to keep up with her. Growing wheels like Baron would certainly do the trick, and I can't wait to hook up with him to see how he does it.

Now for me, becoming the Tanner Brigade version of Optimus Prime is reason enough to be pup of the week. But Bear showed his mettle by fighting through some tough medical issues too. On Monday morning he had the rumbly tummblys and was forced to eat hamburger (OK but better on a pizza) and rice (BLAH).

When his Mommy came home Baron was not feeling very good at all and it was time to go to the Dogtor. The Dogtor did all those terrible tests, rolling you into this position and that, drawing blood and looking at it, making her mother and poor Bear wait. Most everything was normal but he had too much white stuff in his blood which means the poor boy had a fever.

Now with humans there are lots of ways to treat things but with us pups it always seems to be the same, shot after shot after shot, a shot to cure, a shot to cure the cure, lots of little pricks of pain. But these dogtors, they know their stuff, and some Bear was on the mend.

By the next day Bear was back to his old self. And get this, I did not know this, but that handsome dog is 12 and a half years old. Can you imagine being that good looking at that age? I'm only hoping I'll be as cute as I am today when I am 12 and a half.

So, because of his fighting off the illness, and because his Mom, with her unbelievable love and generosity helped him become Speed Racer GSD, Baron AKA Bear is our pup of the week

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Monday night, out of the blue, Daddy grabbed a scoop of kibble. He knelt in the middle of the living room floor. He called my name. He sat there awhile. I don't come when my name is called. Foley taught me that. We just sit about ten feet away, cock our heads, and look at him oddly.

But he kept calling me and tempting me with kibble. Foley repeatedly told me not to go but ohh, kibble. I went over to him, he told me I was a good girl, and gave me a kibble. Well, how much easier could this be? Then he told me to sit. What? He said sit again.

He held a kibble. What was wrong with him? I grew tired looking at him. So I sat. He got all excited, gave me a kibble, and told me I was a good girl. Obviously he'd cracked. He then told me to stand. Oh my gosh he had developed a second personality. So I stood.

He told me I was a good girl and gave me another kibble. I looked over at Foley and she just shook her head and called me "circus monkey." I was told to sit again, and I sat again, and then damn fool gave me another one. I was training this guy good.

Then, while I was sitting, he put a kibble on the floor, about eight paws away, and told me to stay. Well what kind of damn fool trickery was this? Does a waitress bring a slope nose food and tell them they can't eat it? I was so confused I just sat there looking at him wondering if his head was about to explode.

Then he told me to come to him. What? Come? Stay? Make up your mind. Then he got all excited telling to me come. So, I didn't want him to pss out or something, I went over to him and ate the kibble, he began to scratch me and tell me what a good girl I was.

Then he told me to sit. Can we do something fun like play with the ball? I was just so discouraged by the whole thing I sat down. And he got all excited again and gave me another kibble. "She's learning really quickly," he told Mommy with a big smile.

Mommy just shook her head. Mommy doesn't believe I can be trained. I'd like to prove her right, but I was hungry, sat and stayed a little more for him. "Try it when you're not kneeling in front of her with kibble in your hand," she said. "A little while later he had that opportunity.

I heard something at the door and ran over to it starting to bark: Daddy stood over me: "Pocket: sit, sit, sit, sit, stay, Pocket sit and stay. Sussh. Sussh." Sussh? We had never done sussh before. What is this fool talking about? Anyway, I just kept barking louder, and Daddy kept growing redder.

He finally gave up, but a couple of days later he was back at it again. He seems to think that by training me to sit and stay it will make me a better dog, and will finally get me house broken. He has set a goal for me. 21 straight days without an accident.

So far, in our quest for 21 straight days, I am at, let's see, carry the three, rounds off, um, I'm at zero. But I did go for a stretch of zero straight days so that is encouraging. Plus I am getting kibble for sitting, which seems to be the most exercise Daddy gets. The way I see it, the more time we play the sit, stay and kibble game, the more kibble I get. But as long as I don't do it any other time, he'll have to keep playing the game with me.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

In honor of this week's anniversary of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, and the beginning of the Revolutionary War at Lexington and Concord, we present a slightly different version of events: The Midnight Run of Pokey Lunn.

Listen young pups to a tale of fun
The midnight run of Pokey Lunn,
On the eighteenth of April, in Twenty-ten;
All the dogs who saw it for as long as they live
Will remember forever what Pokey done.

He barked to the Brigade, "If the Princess march
By land or sea from the dog park to-night,
Hang a light aloft in the doghouse arch
Of the Pup Church tower as a signal light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to run and bark the alarm
Through every Tanner Brigade village in the dark,
For our Minute Dogs to be up and ready to bark."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled arf
Silently dog paddeled to the Charlestown wharf,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, the Princess man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his brother Cooper through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with pointed ears,
With his great hearing he learns
The Princess' dogs bark at the doggy door,
The sound of licks, and the tramp of paws,
And the measured scratching of fur,
Marching down to their boats with flea bitten burs.

Then Cooper climbed the tower of the Old Pup Church,
By the wooden stairs, with pitty-pat tread,
To the doggy door overhead,
And startled the Hammies from their perch
On the wooden spinning wheel, that round him made
Running and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, wishing he was tall,
To the couch by the window in the wall,
Where he jumped up and looked down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, waited Roland,
Digging with Savannah for bones on the hill,
While snoozing near them was a snoring Nigel
That Cooper could hear, loud enough to raise the dead,
While on the lookout were Foley and Pocket
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to grunt, "All is well!"
Until Pocket didn't see the hole and fell
And Foley pulled her out and decided to go to bed
"All's quiet here tonight," to Cooper she said
But Cooper paid no mind, his nose picking up a scent
On a familiar smell something far away,
Where the river widens stood Hattie Mae,--
Pointing to a line of black that bent and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to run and ride,
Harnessed and leashed, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Pokey Lunn.
Now he licked his furry side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Nervously Pokey, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his harness girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old Pup Church,
As it rose above the playing pups on the hill,
Digging for bones and Nigel snoring still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
His brother Copper lights the match and turns,
Pokey lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of paws in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a pup in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, shooting from MacDougal's butt
Pokey struck out by paws flying fearless and fleet;
He was off faster than the speed of light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by Pokey's paws, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village with and jump and a leap,
The water, tranquil and broad and deep,
Over the Mystic River, meeting the ocean tides;
High in the air Pokey made it to the edge,
Landing soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
And off to gather the Brigade he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Tanner town.
He heard the howlin of the Rock,
And the barking of the Bridge's dogs,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When Pokey sprinted into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
And buried his eyes as the naughty bit passed,
And the Puppy-house windows, was a smiling Honey Bear,
Keeping lookout with strong Baron aka Bear,
As they were relieved to see Pokey at last
As they prepared for the battle to come at dawn.

It was two by the village clock,
When Pokey leaped on to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And wondered what bleating could possibly be,
Pokey smelled the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over his fur so brown.
And wished he was safe and asleep in his bed
And not on the bridge months from the fall,
And then remembered what his Mommy said,
To always come when she did call.

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the Princess Regulars fired and fled,---
How the Brigade gave them bone for bone,
From behind each fence and freshly cut lawn,
Chasing the Princess down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to bark and load.

So through the night rode Pokey Lunn;=
And so through the night went his bark of alarm
To every Middlesex doggy park and farm,---
A bark of defiance, and not of fear,
A yip in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a howl that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all pup history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The paws will waken and listen and run
The hurrying paw-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Pokey Lunn.

I don't know how many of you are aware but Saturday night we came close to losing a very good friend and if it wasn't for the actions of her brave and smart Mom we would have.

Now you know us dogs. We are always searching for something to eat. We can't help it. Oh sure, we know our Mommy will feed us soon. But there is a nagging little bark in our brain that says she could start forgetting and we wouldn't get fed, so we must seek out our own food. And when we do, we get ourselves into trouble.

Take last night. Ruby Duncan decided she was a little hungry and began scrounging around looking for something to eat. She found some nice chicken tasting product and she scoffed it down. Yum.

A short time later poor Ruby got some rumblings in her tummy and then she began to throw up the chicken treat she had just eaten. Her Mommy came over to see what happened and on my gosh, it wasn't chicken treats at all, it was rat poison.

Ruby's Mom didn't panic. OK, she did. But she still kept a level head which is all that matters. She knew that if your dog ever takes poison that they should be given peroxide to slow down the poison. I did not know this but I am sure I will be educating my Mommy about it soon. Let's face it, if Pocket eats her poo, anything is game. Once she got the peroxide into little Ruby she rushed her to the dogspital.

The dogtors took wonderful care of her but they had to keep her overnight. Her Mom didn't get any good morning licks when the sun came up and she missed them very much. Ruby has eaten her breakfast and should be coming home soon. All she needs is some Vitamin C for a few weeks and she will be back to her normal, playing, licking self.

So Ruby is our pup of the week for teaching us a valuable lesson, watch what your eat, and remember, your Mom will always be feeding you so there is no reason to go into business for yourself. Also if you reading this make sure they are level headed like Ruby's Mom and know what to do if we do stick our nose where it doesn't belong.

So, for providing us an important lesson, and for her Mom's coolness in the face of an emergency, and also so she cuts herself a break and doesn't blame herself for something that wasn't her fault, we name Ruby Duncan our Pup of the Week.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Last night's Dancing with the Paws had it all, passion, fire, controversy, and some of the best dog and professional dancing we have seen in years.

The night began with Mollie dancing an elegant waltz with her partner Derek Hough. Mollie's paw work was divine, and her posture perfect. Carrie Ann said she had rarely seen two partners so in tune with one another and Bruno said he could feel the fire of Mollie's sexuality reflected in her eyes. Len was upset with Derek's use of a tennis ball as a prop, and accused him of trying to pull his mickie. Still, Mollie got two nines and an eight from Len.

Next up was Nigel paired with Cheryl Burke for a tango. On the advice of fashion director Hattie Mae Nigel wore his bowler and was chewing on his cigar. Again, Len criticized the use of props, while Bruno was not favorable to the considerable amount of drool that Nigel left on the floor. Carrie Ann thought the drooling was kind of a turn on, and she praised Cheryl's choreography to be able to pull of a believable tango with a partner who did little more than bury his head in her crotch and spin around on his little pads. The pair got three sixes but that did not bother Nigel, who, by the time the scores were read, was curled up on the floor in a ball snoring.

Dancing the first Latin number of the night was Smoochy with his partner Anna Treybunaskashakabynashkaba. Bruno was very excited about Smoochy's performance calling him a four legged beast of love and making the poor pooch hide quivering under his Mama's chair. Len did not like the dance but Tom, who with Brooke coaxed poor Smoochy from under the chair, told him he thought it was because Smoochy shed all over him. Carrie Ann took a point off their score because they broke hold when Smoochy took off to chase a squirrel.

What many felt was less successful was the Quick Step with Matilda and Louis Van Amstel. They started well, despite Matilda having, what she termed, four left feet, but the elegant Newfie ran into trouble when she lost her footing and fell on Van Amstel leaving nothing but a little European smush on the floor. Len and Carrie Ann both gave her low marks for the slip up, and the killing of the popular choreographer, but an obviously intimidated Bruno gave her a nine, which he immediately regretted as the big dog spent over a minute thanking him with big licks.

Copernicus drew the most difficult assignment, dancing the Viennese Waltz with new comer Ashley DeGrosso. But our thoughtful little friend proved himself to be quite a dancer. He told Brooke Burke he learned fast foot work by avoiding Portuguese Man of Wars on the beach. He got two nines from Carrie Ann and Len and the Bruno yelled out ten and the little man scared Copernicus so much he ran into the audience and on to his Mom's lap.

Edyta Sliwinska had a much more difficult time doing her tango with the youngest contestant, little Rugie Ruger. Despite long hours of practice Ruger was much more interested in trying to dig holes in the dance floor and pulling at the strands of Edyta's skimpy dress. During their dance Edyta stubbornly stuck to their choreography but little Ruger got obsessed with chasing the swirling parts of her dress and finally gave it one large rip which left the scantily clad Edyta completely naked and caused Bruno to say "so that's what one looks like." Ruger, a fan of sweaty European skin, took off after Edyta to enjoy some licks and their scores were never calculated.

Another highlight of the evening was Baron (AKA Bear) doing an elegant waltz with Chelsea Hightower. Carrie Ann said he had wonderful posture and his footwork was spectacular. Len said that he had class and pizazz but had a problem with his shedding. Bruno told him that he was the dog who put the great in the German Shepard dog. Bear thanked them with a regal woof of joy as he grabbed a ten from Carrie Ann and tied Copernicus for the lead.

Saffron and Damian Whitehead both thrilled the crowd with an elegant Viennese Waltz. Saffron also wowed them with her beautiful outfit created by Hattie Mae. Saffron held her posture, had spectacular paw work, and no one in the audience could take their eyes off of her. Bruno said Saffron reminded him of a beautiful swan gracefully going across the water as the male swans looked on with lust in their heart. Saffron bit him. This cost her, because, as she got tens from Carrie Ann and Len, Bruno and his bloody ankle only gave her a six. In the Dogatorium afterwards Saffron dedicated the dance to her brave brother Sage.

Savannah was lucky enough to draw Maksim Chmerkovskiy as her partner and he tried to keep her concentrated on the steps but Savannah was way too interested in what was going on around her. Half way though their tango Savannah saw that someone had left a gate open and she ran out the gate, through the door, and it took her mother and Rolland a half hour to find her dancing for spare change at the subway station.

The final couple of the evening was Roxy and Mark Ballas doing the quickstep. Roxy did everything she could to keep up but her little paws were not made for the quick steping. When they were done she tried to keep her growls to herself as she got her score, but could not contain herself when she learned that Carrie Anne was deducting a point because of lift. "Look how small I am!" she growled. "How am I not supposed to be lifted?" The all dog audience rose and cheered for her.

No dogs cheered louder than Foley and Pocket who sat eating popcorn watching the show, knowing that sometimes it's better to put the spotlight on your friends then yourselves. And their friends were certainly very entertaining.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

It has been a very difficult period of time for our pup of the week, sweet MacDougal. Last year he lost his Daddy, his play partner, and his Mom doesn't know how she would have made it through that difficult time without her sweet little buddy giving all the love her heart could handle. It seems like no matter what life throws at our strong little pal he can handle. Even recent leg problems have not kept our little Cairn Terrier down.

Then life threw him something quite unexpected. Suddenly, without warning, the earth began to move under his little paws. He gave out a cry, and ran to protect his Mama. Then, while he was running, the most miraculous thing happened, he began to fire poo from his behind like a fortified marine protecting his line in a foxhole.

Now many of us have become frightened at nature with her thunderstorms, howling winds, and rising water, but none of us have thought to fire back at it. Our MacDougal,to protect his Mom from the bad, vibrating earth, lay down a covering fire of poo as he led his Mom to safety.

We all want to take care of our Moms, and sometimes little dogs like us take on some big dogs to do it. But none of us have taken on the Earth itself. MacDougal has shown himself to be a brave dog by supporting his Mom after they both had a horrific loss, shown his bravery by shooting back to save her, and he has proven himself to be a very worthy pup of the week.

Plus, if we ever have the need to take on the castle again, we will be able to do so under the cover of MacDougal's butt fire. He is our secret weapon.

(Editor's note from Pocket Dog: The shooting of poo out the butt happened in a previous earthquake, but Foley thought it made a better story to say it happened in this one. Either way it is something I am very jealous about.)

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Friday was a big day for us. A man from FEMA came to check out the water damage in our basement. Well if he came to see a natural disaster, Pocket and I were going to give him a disaster.

As soon as he rang the bell we put our plan in action. We began to bark as loudly as possible. We learned this from watching the show COPS. Whenever the police go to some drunk,shirtless guy's trailer there are dogs barking up a big commotion everywhere and Mommy says: "What a disaster."

So, to add to the disaster, we barked and barked. Then Mommy took him downstairs. Earlier that day I sailed the SS Foley into the sump pump. You want a disaster, sail your skiff into your pump.

Then they went downstairs. I pulled Pocket aside and told her we had to help. "Do what you do best," I whispered to her. She nodded, got in position, and took a vick on the floor. Unfortunately she hadn't eaten much recently and her output was not of disastrous proportions. Once again it would be up to me.

I got right in front of the door, took a deep breath, and let out a nice vick. But it still wasn't truly a disaster. It was more like an unpleasant inconvenience. I shook my head. It was time for the ultimate sacrifice. I told Pocket my plan.

Pocket looked at me shocked. "Not even I would do that, and there isn't much I wouldn't do," Pocket said.

But to create a disaster for my Mommy I would. I lied next to my creation, and then I began to roll in it. When I was done I was covered in vick, and man did I smell, a disaster indeed.

Then I heard them coming upstairs, and she looked down, and saw the smushed vick, turned, and saw a fairly fresh looking Pocket, then looked at me, and sighed. She asked the FEMA man if he had dogs, and he said no, and she said that this was the kind of disaster you had when you have dogs.

She then took me upstairs for a bath, where she pretended to be mad at me (in fact she continues to pretend to be mad at me, taking it a little too far if you ask me) and once I got finished she went downstairs, and found Pocket's vick, and sighed even louder, as Pocket and I sat on the couch, wagging our tails, so proud of our teaming with nature to bring a disaster of such proportions that the government had to be called out (and Sean Penn later floated by in a canoe.)

We haven't heard from the FEMA people yet but we are sure we will be seeing lots of cash after the disaster that Pocket and I perpetrated. I only hope when the money comes rolling in they save some for kibbles and treats, we deserve it

Monday, April 5, 2010

We had a full house on Easter. Our brother, and our sisters, with a whole boatload of grand baby girls. Our brother Chad and his wife Lisa arrived first. We like them because they smell like their dog Mya.(If you have a second, say a little prayer for Mya, she had surgery on her leg, and overnight she ripped out all her stitches and opened the wound. This was a week ago. I have been remiss in asking for a prayer request, but am doing so now.) They sat on the couch. Pocket, she jumped on the couch, ran over the back, down the arms, on the floor, and back up again. She wants attention, but wants it on the fly. I sat next to Lisa, and made my grunting noises insisting she give me a chest scratch.

Next to arrive was daughter number one and her girls Maddie and Meghan. They also smell like their pups Blake and Riley. They really smell like Riley. She's a boxer and she slobbers and sheds over everything. We are very neat dogs and we neither slobber or shed. But oh how we love to smell it, especially on little girls clothes and hair. Is that creepy?

Maddie got something to draw with, she's a good drawer, and, as you know, we love to be drawn, but Meghan brings the fun. She's a runner, and Pocket's a chaser, and together they're a nice Sunday early afternoon's entertainment. Meghan ran back and forth to watch Mommy making the ham. Then Mommy said the food was ready.

We still had some empty seats. Sister #2 was at her in laws where they were eating some weird Polish food. Since her husband, our plumber, is the only one who eats it, they would be bringing their appetites.

But the best thing? Used to be when we ate what Mommy and Daddy got, but Mommy thought one of us, I won't say who, was getting a little round, so we got a cup of kibble. But this day there was no cup of tired old kibble, Daddy just sat down. I was worried there would be no food. But then softly, quietly, little bits of ham came down towards us.

Oh the sweet joy of ham. Oh the succulent pig. It tasted so good. I would have enjoyed some mashed potatoes, but what can you do?

Then the door opened and family #2 came in and I was so excited I abandoned the ham. They don't own any dogs, but they still smelled nice. They got some food, and their three young 'nes aren't too careful with their food, so more ham, and even some mashed, and some green stuff we decided to leave alone because we've read the blogs and know they're bad.

When they got done eating Pocket put her paws up to go in Daddy's lap in the uncomfortable dining room chair. I climbed into Daddy's recliner. The baby one was watching one of the programs with bright lights and lots of movement. You know how little slope noses become engrossed in those things. Well don't tell anyone, but so do I. Then, somehow, the channel got changed to the On Demand station, and I didn't enjoy that very much. I saw 36 promos for The Blind Side, which I will not be ordering (although I would if it was about a rich woman who adopted a chocolate lab.)

The channel then got changed back to the one with the bright moving pictures. Meanwhile the slope noses sat drinking even though they weren't thirsty. I like watching them when they do this, they get so silly. Thankfully they didn't get so silly that they played spin the Pocket. That games always end with projectile Pocket puking.

Then everyone packed up to leave. Our little blond, curly haired Emily left behind chocolate bunnies, which we can't eat, a ring with an E on it, which was too small for our paws, and a little hula hoop. Now this we found useful. While Mommy and Daddy were cleaning Pocket and I both hula hooped. I am a little round in the hip area so I didn't much huluing, but Pocket was pretty good.

Finally Mommy and Daddy sat down in their recliners, and, after all that unthristy drinking, they were ready for a long nap, and we were very down with that. It had been a very busy, but fun day, and I'm hoping we have another one soon.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Neither Pocket or I would ever use Pup of the Week for personal reason or gain. But this week we want to recognize one of our very favorite pups in the entire Brigade and her wonderful Mom.

It was last April when our Pup of the Week, Zoe Boe, and her Mom, teamed up to do their first picture of her two favorite lovable Yorkies (no offense Chelsea and Ashton, it's probably a tie.) It was the first envelope that ever came to the house addressed to us. We opened it and there we were, with rabbit ears on, and a basket full of eggs. It was the most wonderful thing we have ever seen.

Since then us two Yorkies have been featured in plenty of her pictures, Foley as the Queen of Pop, Pocket in her Senate Office, the two of us, Tanner and Zoe in Mount Dogmore. But she did more than just draw us (after all, when you have perfect subjects, how hard is the drawing?) There was the wonderful picture of Tanner reaching down from heaven to guide Ruger; of our diva Hattie Mae teaching Gracie to dance; Nigel the bartender; the pool party; and so many more.

Because of technical problems and the dwindling hours of the day, we did not get the Hump Day funnies for several weeks. But in the last two weeks they have returned to us, reminding us how much we loved them, and making us wonder how how we ever survived without them.

So, on this holy Sunday, we recognize a friend who is always there for us, who fills our hearts with joy and happiness, who never requests a thing and gives all she can, who makes our lives better just for the joy of knowing her, and we name Zoe Boe our pup of the week.

And, if you like, on Tuesday, bark by her page and wish her Mom a happy 28th birthday. Or something like that, I'm a writer, not a statistical genius.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

There is only so much a mini monster lollipop can take. My Mommy and Daddy are the two best slope noses I know, but at the end of the day, they are just average slope noses, and they are no way as cunning as a Yorkie (no offense.)

This was the situation on Wednesday morning. Our basement smelled like the underwear Russell wears on Survivor and was wetter than his shiny head in a monsoon. Our phone service was out, which doesn't mean nothing to me, Petco doesn't deliver. But our internet was out! An internet without Foley Monster is as useless as one without Google. I have a fan base eagerly waiting my every thought that stretches into the dozens.

Daddy was taking Grampy and his sister to Boston to see Nana (she is now at a re-hab facility in New Bedford much closer to home and out of intensive care so go Nana go) but he had two hours after Mommy went to work before he left and something bad happened. Daddy had an idea.

Here were some other ideas Daddy had when he was left alone: dragging Chad's bed upstairs, getting it stuck, and leaving huge gouges in the stairway; trying to shampoo the rugs and getting so much water on the stairs you couldn't walk up them without getting sudsy water between your paws; mixing her clothes together in the washer so they are all the same color; leaving the cover loose on the bottle of pills so when they are picked up by the cap they spill on the floor leaving Pocket anti-depressed for a week; putting the top of the orange juice container on loosely so when shakes it the cap pops off and she gets covered in juice.

Once Mommy was out the door Daddy went downstairs. I hopped up on the back of the couch. Pocket joined me. "Why did we climb up here?" Pocket asked.

"We are seeking higher ground. When trouble come seek a high point and a means of escape," I said nodding at the window.

"Why are we in trouble?" Pocket asked: Then came a splash, a smash, and a yell. "What was that?" Pocket asked.

"That's Daddy fixing things," I said.

"Why does it sound like Daddy's breaking things?"

"That's the way he tries to fix things," I said, and Pocket snuggled close to me.

There was stomping, sawing, swearing, splashing, and swishing. There was banging, booming, bashing, blasting and bleeding. Daddy came up and down, up and down, up and down the stairs and I told Pocket to ignore him (it was for the best.) Then he rushed up stairs and out to the dumpster. Then he came up in just his skivvies to change. He told me he was going to see Nana, would give her our love, then, because Mommy was going to the hair dresses after work, he would be home to clean up before she knew what a mess he had made. He then put us up in the bedroom and left. Then Mommy came home.

I didn't say anything to her. I watched her innocently putter around the house. Then she went down stairs. Then I heard crying, cussing, chomping, coughing and carping. Mommy then began yelling at Daddy which didn't seem to do much good because he wasn't there. She left to get her hair done, Daddy came home, and then he went to the cellar, and he yelled at her. This is what I love about my Mommy and Daddy, they fight a lot, but they never do it when the other one is near them.

When Mommy got home they didn't fight, but Daddy was going out. He left us home alone with no phone, no internet, water in the basement, and a hole in the wall. I didn't care about none of that stuff except no internet. I tried using Mommy's blueberry thing, but my paws were too big for the keys and when I downloaded myself I ended up in the wet basement. I went to bed grumpy, woke up grumpy, and spent the day lying in the sun waiting for the internet men to come.

It was more than 12 hours from the time we woke up to the time the men showed up, which is three and a half days in puppy time. I couldn't nap. I paced, panicked, panted, piqued and pooped. Finally they came in their big white truck.

I told Daddy to pick me up and he carried me upstairs to the modem and I watched them as they worked, then into Mommy's room to check the phone, then into the (ick) wet basement as they looked over the wires. I told Daddy what they needed to do, then I went upstairs and sat by the computer until it said I was connected to the internet. They said it was all fixed and I gave them a tip of the tail in thanks then got busy reading blogs, posting comments, and downloading myself to friends.

I am plenty tired now, I am going go sleep. I have a new job starting tomorrow. Whenever Mommy goes out I have to take Daddy for a long walk so he doesn't get into trouble. If I'm too tired to do that I am downloading him to Tanner's Mom's house. Then he can walk Ruger. That way Trudee and Mom can go to work without worrying that their two troublesome boys will cause heartbreaking trouble when they get home.

Tails From Rainbow Bridge

About Me

This page was founded in 2007 by Foley Monster. She was joined by her sister Pocket Dog. In 2013 Foley took a job as a Judge at Rainbow Bridge where she continues to blog. The newest family member, River Song joined us a short time later